


Eat

by thaliaarche



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Cannibalism, Gen, Murder, Wordcount: 100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 15:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16390103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thaliaarche/pseuds/thaliaarche
Summary: Before, white overwhelmed Ciel. Light glinting off the windows. The swish of lab coats. The sterile ID tags.Then they lowered the specimen in beside him, a mass of quivering, shimmeringblack.





	Eat

Before, white overwhelmed Ciel. Light glinting off the windows. The swish of lab coats. The sterile ID tags.

Then they lowered the specimen in beside him, a mass of quivering, shimmering _black_ , handled gingerly with latex gloves and tongs.

“Incalcitrant,” they murmured. “It’s resisted all bonds.”

It sticks to the floor, briefly wobbling like the gelatine desserts Ciel used to have, before.

He waits, then reaches out.

It lunges.

Cold ribbons wrap Ciel, and as he shrieks it burrows inwards, coiling around the cords of his muscles, encapsulating his bones in sleek black, stealing into his soul.

He is consumed.

* * *

It rages.

Tentacles smash glass, walls, seizing people only to crack skulls together. The creature plucks humans from the ground and, without a second’s hesitation, gorges itself.

Floating far-off, Ciel must admire its appetite and zeal. He finds too that he understands its hunger. He contemplates its ravenous hunt, how it feasts on eyes and lungs and brains and pancreases, and through his revulsion he starts plotting, steering the rampage. He pulls it to smash the other cages but leave the children unharmed. He pulls it to savor his torturers, to nibble slowly, saving the brains for last.

It listens.

* * *

_Stop. That’s an order!_

Ciel reins the hunger in the moment they escape the compound, drawing the monster back into himself with surprising ease. It hisses as another human passes, but Ciel scolds it.

_Innocents aren’t for eating._

_Humans are for eating._

_If you’re still so hungry, why aren’t you eating me now? Aren’t I just as delicious?_

It falls silent, receding into the corners of Ciel’s mind. Then–

_You’re the most delicious of all. I’m saving you for dessert._

_You made that up to scare me._

It laughs, low and echoing and alien, and that’s no comfort at all.

* * *

 

_We’re going to the grocery store. Tell me if there’s anything you can eat that’s not human._

_Will there be brains?_

_Sure._

_Liar._

_There will be brains! But they’ll be inside people, who are?_

It grumbles. _Off limits._

Ciel strolls through the aisles leaning in close to the meat products, the ground-up hamburger meat, the slabs of raw chicken, hoping …

_This is trash._

Damn.

Ciel rolls his eyes and heads down a random aisle, heading for the exit, when suddenly a chill freezes him.

_I want._

_You want what?_

_The ambrosia._

Frowning, Ciel turns around, searching, and sees …

Chocolate bars.

* * *

 

Ciel lounges around an apartment– not his, the monster scaled buildings until it found an abandoned place to squat– and does nothing but eat chocolate. They spend the first few days comparing varieties, milk vs. semisweet, fillings vs. plain, and waiting for uniformed agents to swarm through the door at any moment.

The agents never come. Silence sets in.

At first Ciel thinks it’s just him, just the memories weighing him down again, but then he probes the monster and finds the same loneliness, magnified, an overwhelming void all the Cadbury in the world can’t fill.

_Let’s go do something._

* * *

 

Even alien symbiotes need balanced diets.

(“Symbiote,” that’s what Ciel calls it. Not “parasite,” because though no contract binds them, Ciel’s determined to squeeze as much out of it as it can from him. If he’s doomed to its teeth and frighteningly long tongue, then he’ll live high and fast first.)

So they go looking, not for innocents, only for criminals. They search London’s underbelly for killers, killers and abusers and when they find them–

_Eat. That’s an order._

It turns cool, icy when it’s most excited, and within the mask of black Ciel smiles. Revenge does taste best cold.


End file.
